<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Bit Of A Blow by Anonymous6285</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044636">A Bit Of A Blow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anonymous6285'>Anonymous6285</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Injury, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Violence, Wetting, Whump, fixing up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:01:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anonymous6285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuart and George get in a fight. Stuart is hurt really bad, George thinks it's his fault, and Peter helps his brother keep out of trouble.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Bit Of A Blow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CW:</p><p>blood<br/>gun violence (mentioned)<br/>panic attacks</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’d found him sitting against the cold brick wall of the alleyway, silent sobs shaking his body as he looked with big, brown eyes at Stuart laying on the ground in front him, still. A small puddle of blood surrounded the older boy’s shoulder, and as they got closer, they saw the tears dripping onto George’s shirt.</p><p>“Oh, my god, Stu!” John cried, running over to his friend, rolling him over, his limp body complying easier than he thought he would.</p><p>“Is he a-alive?” George whispered silently. “I-i-is he?”</p><p>Stuart groaned, trying to sit up, but John kept him down on the ground. “Paul, call an ambulance!” He let a hand rest on Stuart’s pale face. “Geo, what happened?” he asked, not taking an eye off the injured boy in his arms.</p><p>“I-I don’t… there were gunshots, and I thought… I thought he died..” His voice had become a little more steady after realising his friend might be okay.</p><p>“He’s alright, kid. He’s going to need some patching up, but-- Oh, my god!” John’s eyes widened at the sight of George’s face as he turned around. A gash was opened up on his right cheekbone, and the blood running out of it had made it to his shirt collar. “Aw, Geo, your pretty face. God, what did they do to you, love?”</p><p>Paul ran back into the alley, getting to his knees next to Stuart. “They’re on their way. Is he okay?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” John mumbled. “Geo’s pretty beat up, too. But he says Stu was shot!” Paul gasped quietly.</p><p>“Christ!” He brushed the sweaty hair out of Stuart’s face. “What happened?”</p><p>“George was messing with these guys inside,” Stu muttered. “It was all fun, really, but they pulled out a fucking gun, and we ran. They chased us out, I don’t remember much else. Just this awful ringing.”</p><p>John sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips to Stu’s forehead. “God, you scared the hell out of me. Geo, too! If you’re alive, don’t just lay on the ground like that!” A small appeared on the eldest’s lips before it faded when he heard sirens.</p><p>“Fuck, I can’t afford to be shot. My parents are going to have me head, y’know!” George mumbled something. “Hmm?”</p><p>“I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have picked a fight. If i had known they had a gun--”</p><p>“You didn’t, George. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?” A nod. “Good.” Then two paramedics hurried into the alleyway with a stretcher, and John and Paul backed away from their friend. Paul went over to George, helping him to his feet.</p><p>In front of them, Stuart was carefully picked up and placed on the stretcher before it expanded upwards and started moving towards the ambulance on the street. They all followed, but a man at the door stopped them.</p><p>“We’ve only got room for one of you.” John glanced over at Paul, and they seemed to communicate that he was the one to go with his friend.</p><p>“Get him home, okay? Make sure somebody’s awake to help him clean up, too!” John stepped into the ambulance, a hand in Stuart’s, rubbing small circling on his palm.</p><p>The back doors of it slammed closed, and as it whizzed away, George clung to Paul as a sudden, loud, sob escaped his pressed lips. Paul looked at him with a furrowed brow, but it softened when he saw the boy’s state. His eyes were redder than the blood dripping slowly down, now onto the concrete in front of them. </p><p>“It’s my fault,” he whispered. “I’m glad he’ll be okay, I don’t know what I would’ve done if--”</p><p>“Hey!” Paul said. “Stop it, love! This wasn’t your fault! You’re not the one that shot him!”</p><p>“I’m the one that pissed them off!” he shouted angrily, mostly at himself. “They roughed us up a bit. And then they were trying to shoot me, they said so. But Stu was standing in front of me, and they said that if he didn’t move, they’d shoot him.”</p><p>Paul searched his eyes, realising what Stuart had done to risk his life for George’s.</p><p>“And he fell down, I thought he was dead! I thought Stuart had just lost the rest of his life because I was being ignorant, and I looked up and they were gone, probably scared they’d killed him.”</p><p>Without a second thought, the older boy wrapped an arm around him and started to walk, on his way back to George’s neighbourhood. “He’s okay, George. And he knows it’s not your fault. He loves you…”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Peter had been sitting in the living room with the television set on, up late watching his shows. He knew George wasn’t back yet, but the boy was fourteen, and he could fend for himself good enough. But when he heard a knock, he still jumped. Looking at the clock to see it was half one, he sat up off of the couch and stalked over to the door, cracking it just a bit to see his little brother and Paul standing there awkwardly.</p><p>“George? Haven’t you got a key?” He was met with silence, and he opened the door wider, the light from inside shining out and illuminating their faces for the first time. He freaked when he saw the blood and tears all over George’s. “Good God! What did you do?!”</p><p>“B-b-be quiet!” George hissed. “You’ll wake mum and dad!” </p><p>“That’s not really the highest of my concerns right now. What happened to your face!?”</p><p>“There was a fight,” Paul supplied, leaning up against the outside wall of the dwelling. “Geo here took a bit of a blow, so if you could just help him sort it out, that’d be great.” He’d done a great job at sounding monotone despite the fear he felt. A lot of it was practise whenever his father asked about his feelings.</p><p>“Fuck, okay…” He stepped aside and let his brother step inside. “Do you want to stay over Paul?”</p><p>“No, my da wanted me back an hour ago, so he’s probably waiting at the door to give me a beating.” Paul chuckled lightly, scared of how true the statement was.</p><p>Paul started to walk away with a wave of his hand, and Peter closed the door, taking a better look at George. “You look fucked, kid.”</p><p>George just rolled his eyes, but as soon as he did, he grew faint and stumbled into the wall. Peter caught him, leading him to the kitchen. </p><p>“M’not drunk. Pete. I swear!”</p><p>“I don’t care if you are or not, honestly.” George looked at him worriedly. “I believe you, though. It’s probably just blood loss.” After he was done practically carrying his brother to the kitchen, he sat him down on the counter, pulling a container of grapes out of the fridge.</p><p>“What’s that for?” George questioned, nervous.</p><p>“For you to eat. You’ve got a lot of blood outside of you, so you need something with iron.” George furrowed his eyebrows. “I know you don’t like them, but you need them.” He slammed the container onto the counter next to George. “Eat.”</p><p>George timidly picked up a grape and plopped it into his mouth as Peter opened the corner cabinet, searching for something to help clean up the gash. When he returned, George looked up at him, new tears starting to roll down his cheeks. “How do you know all this?”</p><p>“I’ve dealt with a few fights myself, Geo.” He noticed the way the younger boy searched his eyes anxiously. “Nothing too serious, okay? Promise, love.” He bit his lip after wiping off the excess blood from George’s face. “This is gonna sting a bit,” he muttered, but when he looked back up at him, he seemed more pale than before. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I-I’m… that’s a lot of blood.”</p><p>Peter followed his downward gaze to the paper towel he’d just set down, and immediately, he took his face by the chin and brought it back up. “Don’t look at that, Georgie. Look at me. You’re fine.”</p><p>Just as George’s brown eyes locked in with his, he pressed the cloth up to the cut, and George cried out in pain.</p><p>“Shh,” Peter hissed. “You’ll wake them up!” But George’s mind was going a thousand miles a minute as soon as the pain appeared back on his face. He heard footsteps, loud and heavy behind him, felt the cold winter air on his face. Gunshots rang through the air, and he screamed louder. “George!” The voice snapped him back to reality, but he was dazed. “God, what are you doing? You’ll get us both in trouble!”</p><p>“S-Stu got shot,” he whimpered, and Peter’s face went blank.</p><p>“What?” George didn’t say anything else, and Peter only got more worried. “George. What the hell do you mean Stu got shot? That’s not fucking funny to joke about!”</p><p>“What’s going on in here?”</p><p>Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “Mum…”</p><p>“It’s nearly two o’clock!”</p><p>“I was just getting some water,” Peter said slowly, carefully hiding the blood covered paper towel behind him.</p><p>“George? Why were you screaming?”</p><p>He was glad his mother couldn’t see his face right now. “He had a bad dream, and he came down here to find me.” At this point, George was afraid of the look he was getting, and he wanted his mum to walk closer and deal with all of it herself. Peter was obviously upset with him.</p><p>A heavy silence filled the room, and as George started to get more and more faint, he felt something warm on his crotch. Glancing down discreetly, he noticed that a wet spot was spreading out down his thighs, and he was powerless to stop it. His older brother followed his eyes to see it, too, and his jaw dropped as he mumbled something. </p><p>Tears sprung from George’s eyes, and he put a hand over his mouth to stop a whimper. Peter put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.</p><p>“Goodnight, mum. Sorry we woke you.”</p><p>With a heavy sigh, she turned around. “Just be glad you didn’t wake your father.” As she walked away, George got more nervous, because Peter rubbed his temple with his fingers.</p><p>“God dammit, Geo. What are you, five?” He kept his voice down so their mother didn’t hear him at all. George looked down at the ground in shame as rivulets of piss ran down the cabinet. “Just forget about it. What do you mean Stu got shot?”</p><p>“We were out, and these guys got mad at us, and they shot him… J-John went off in the ambulance with him, and Paul walked me home, but I d-d-don’t know if he’s okay.” Peter said nothing, still in shock. “I-I didn’t mean to-- I mean, it was an accident. I can clean it up.”</p><p>“Fuck, George, it’s okay.” He started to put a bandage over his cheekbone. “Is… is Stu… was he okay at all when the ambulance got him? Or was he…?”</p><p>“He was alive, i-if that’s what you’re asking. His shoulder, it was bleeding a lot, a-and, I thought it was all my fault, but they all said not to worry about it. I feel awful. I just want to see him, but I can’t get there, and--”</p><p>“Geo,” Peter whispered. “Go change, okay? I’ll take care of the counter. And come right back down here, I can take you to the hospital if you want. I’ll ring Paul and see if he wants a ride, too.”</p><p>“Wait, Peter, what do I do with my clothes? You think mum won’t question why there’s blood and piss all over my clothes when she does the laundry tomorrow?” He bit his lip anxiously. </p><p>“I’ll tell her they’re mine and I got in a fight, she doesn’t know the difference.” He smiled shyly at George as he walked away in shame. He tried his best not to track his mess across the floor, but Peter knew he’d have to clean that up, too.</p><p>But he still said nothing, getting more paper towels and starting to wipe it all up.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>